


A Lord for a Lady

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), SanSan - Fandom
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, sansan, spunky sansa, westerosi au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: Bronn and Sandor are abducted while hunting together. Sansa must choose one of them for her husband. She's sassy.





	A Lord for a Lady

Sandor’s eyes squinted, adjusting to the light. He looked to his left and saw Bronn, also squinting after the rough homespun hood was removed from his head. They were in a lavishly furnished room, not at all what he would have expected. He had anticipated a dark, cold cell. The walls were red and accented with gold. There was a large wood dining table than ran almost the entire length of the room. A small fire burned in a white marble fireplace. The man standing before them had no hair and was dressed in a brown robe, resembling a maester. He regarded them with inquisitive blue eyes, glancing back and forth, as if he were trying to detect their next move. After several moments of silence, he finally spoke.

 

“I apologize for the theatrics. We haven’t had to do this in quite some time. I’m afraid we’re a bit out of practice.”

 

Bronn was the first of them to reply, of course. “We who?  Do what? What the bloody hells is going on?”

 

Sandor simply growled in frustration, his hands still tied behind his back with thick rope.  At least they were able to stand on their feet. He and Bronn had been hunting rabbits when Bronn spotted a stag and convinced him that they should go after the larger prey. They were tracking it through the dense brush of the forest when suddenly Sandor’s vision went black. He woke up with a headache, a hood over his head, and his hands tied behind his back.

 

“Normally we would have slapped chains on you and put you to work straight away, but it’s your lucky day. Lord Stark’s eldest daughter has come of age. She’s fit to be wed, but the few men living here are either her relatives or they’re already spoken for.  So, we went hunting for eligible suitors. She’ll have her choice between the two of you. Gods be with you.” After giving them a polite nod, he turned on his heels and walked toward the large oak door.

 

A realization came to Bronn.  “Just a moment. You said she’ll choose one of us.”

 

The man paused. “Yes, that's correct.”

 

“Well, what in seven hells is going to happen to the one she doesn’t pick?”

 

“The man who does not become her groom will have a choice to make as well. Leave the village before sunrise on the morrow, or stay forever as a member of the community.” With that, he exited the room, gently closing the heavy door behind him.

 

Bronn and Sandor struggled, trying to release themselves from their ropes.

 

“I don’t like this, Sandor. I don’t like it one bit. Do you think it’s a trick? She’s probably a hag. Or a witch. Or a dog. Maybe all three.”

 

“Will you shut up about it?!  If you’d put as much energy into untying your rope as you do into running your mouth, you’d be free by now.”

 

Within seconds, the door opened again. This time, a large woman outfitted in a suit of armor entered. She had short blonde hair that stopped just above her ears. Behind her was a young woman, adorned beautifully in lavender silk, with a grey wolf embroidered on the bodice of her dress. She had scarlet hair that had been woven into a complicated braid. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, and her skin was almost milk white. She was sweet and innocent looking. The large woman spoke first.

 

“Here you are, lady Sansa. This room contains the men that have been harvested for you. You’re to choose one to be your lord husband.”

 

Sansa looked the two men over. One was so large he could almost be considered a giant. His hair was long and greasy, and his face was marred with pink burn scars. The other man was smaller, and very thin, with leathery skin that wrinkled around his eyes and hollows in his cheeks. She suddenly felt overwhelmed. She leaned toward one of Brienne’s ears. “Perhaps there is a second room?” Her tone was hopeful.

 

Brienne hated to disappoint her. “I’m afraid not, my lady.”

 

Sansa crossed her arms and pouted. “Well that’s just fine. You may leave us, lady Brienne.” Brienne obeyed Sansa's order, counting herself lucky that she wasn't the one who had to choose.

 

Sansa poured herself a cup of wine and stepped closer to the men, facing her two candidates head on.

 

“Well this is just grand, isn’t it. My first day as a woman and I’m given the task of deciding which pile of dung smells sweetest.”

 

Bronn looked her up and down from head to toe, grunting his appreciation of her form before speaking. Suddenly, the thought of marrying her didn't seem to be such a bad idea. “Oh come now, it can’t be that bad. I thought every woman was excited about her wedding day.”

 

Sansa took another step, putting herself directly in front of Bronn. “Not as excited as every man is about the wedding night, I suppose.”

 

He nodded in agreement. “Aye, I suppose. I haven’t had a maiden in quite some time.”

 

“Yes...I'd imagine it must be a thrilling prospect for you...the idea of seeing a naked woman without negotiating a price.”

 

One corner of Sandor’s mouth raised...it was almost a smile.

 

Bronn wasn’t used to a woman talking back. “Say what you like, miss, but every woman I’ve been with has enjoyed the pleasure I’ve given her.”

 

“And...how do you know this?”

 

“They told me, of course.”

 

“I see...and was this before, or after, you tossed them a bag of silver?”

 

Sandor looked down at his feet in an attempt to hide his grin.

 

Bronn was fighting a losing battle. “Alright, alright, you have your fun. Just know that I’ve been with many a maid in my time, and not one of them ever complained.”

 

Sansa didn't miss a beat. “Perhaps they didn’t notice.”

 

Sandor couldn't help it, a small grumble of a laugh escaped his lips.

 

Sansa came even closer to Bronn, her face just a couple of inches from his. “Allow me to be clear. I don’t want to marry either of you. I don’t want to marry anyone, for that matter. It is my duty to my house that I must marry, and so I will.  But hear this, there will be no bedding. You may frequent the brothel as often as you like, and partake of as many whores as you can handle. I will look the other way, so long as you leave me alone. Understood?”

 

Bronn simply nodded.

 

“If you touch me, say disgusting things to me, or if you glance at me in a way that I don’t like, I’ll slit you from navel to nose while you sleep and fry up your entrails for my breakfast. Do we understand one another?”

 

“I hear what you say, but…”

 

Sansa ignored Bronn’s attempt to speak further and made her way over to Sandor, standing directly in front of him, craning her neck in an effort to make eye contact while speaking with him. “And you!” She paused to take a sip of wine. “Same goes for you, if you’re chosen. You’ll leave me alone. We will NOT share a bedchamber. As long as you leave me be, we’ll get along fine. If you don’t…”

 

“I know, I know. You’ll kill me.”

 

She grinned, he had been paying attention. “Not at first. I’ll be ever the loving and dutiful wife by all appearances. Then one morning, weeks or even years from now, whenever you’d least expect it, I’ll serve you a bowl of porridge that shrinks your bollocks to the size of berries." Sandor's eyes grew wide as she took another sip of wine. "It’s awfully painful, I’m told. But don’t worry, the pain doesn’t last forever. Eventually, they fall off.”

 

Bronn was the one laughing now. Sandor gave her a look that was a combination of horror and admiration.

 

With perfect timing, Brienne knocked at the door. “My lady, it’s time.”

 

“Afternoon, gentlemen.” Sansa set her cup of wine on the table and left without speaking further, slamming the door shut behind her.  Sandor and Bronn stood there for what felt like half a day. About an hour after Sansa left, the village elder came back to inform the men of her decision.

 

“She wants the tall, quiet one.”


End file.
